Can You Keep A Secret?

I attempt a blank look and say, 'Who, Co

'No, you dope! Your stranger on the plane. The one who knows everything about you.'

'Oh him.' I feel a flush coming to my cheeks, and look down at my embossed paper coaster.

'Yes, him! Have you managed to avoid him?'

'No,' I admit. 'He won't bloody leave me alone.'

I break off as a waiter puts two fresh strawberry daiquiris on the table. When he's gone, Lissy

gives me a close look.

'Emma, do you fancy this guy?'

'No, of course I don't fancy him,' I say hotly. 'He just… disconcerts me, that's all. It's a

completely natural reaction. You'd be the same. Anyway, it's fine. I only have to get through

until Friday. Then he'll be gone.'

'And then you'll be moving in with Co

forward. 'You know, I reckon he's going to ask you to marry him!'

I feel a tiny lurch in my stomach, which is probably just my drink going down or something.

'You're so lucky,' says Lissy wistfully. 'You know, he put up those shelves in my room the

other day without even asking! How many men would do that?'

'I know. He's just… great.' There's a pause, and I start to shred my paper coaster into little

bits. 'I suppose the only tiny little thing would be that it's not that romantic any more.'

'You can't expect it to be romantic for ever,' says Lissy. 'Things change. It's natural to become

a bit more steady.'

'Oh, I know that!' I say. 'We're two mature, sensible people, and we're having a loving, steady

relationship! Which, you know, is just what I want out of life. Except…' I clear my throat

awkwardly. 'We don't have sex that often any more…'

'That's a common problem in long-term relationships,' says Lissy knowledgeably. 'You need

to spice it up.'

'With what?'

'Have you tried handcuffs?'

'No! Have you?' I stare at Lissy, riveted.

'A long time ago,' she says with a dismissive shrug. 'They weren't all that… Um… why not

try doing it somewhere different. Try doing it at work!'

At work! Now, that's a good idea. Lissy is so clever.

'OK!'I say. 'I'll try that!'

I reach for my bag, get out a pen and write 'shag@work' on my hand, next to where I've

written 'nb: darling'.

Suddenly I'm filled with fresh enthusiasm. This is a brilliant plan. I'll shag Co

tomorrow, and it will be the best sex we've ever had, and the sparkle will come back, and

we'll be madly in love again. Easy. And that will show Jack Harper.

No. This is nothing to do with Jack Harper. I don't know why that slipped out.

There's only one tiny hitch to my scheme. Which is that it's not quite as easy to shag your

boyfriend at work as you'd think. I hadn't quite appreciated before how open everything is in

our office. And how many glass partitions there are. And how many people there are, walking

around all the time.

By eleven o'clock the next morning I still haven't managed to put a game plan together. I think

I'd kind of pictured doing it behind a pot plant somewhere. But now I actually look at them,

pot plants are tiny! And all frondy. There's no way Co

one, let alone risk any… movement.

We can't do it in the loos. The girls' loos always have people in there, gossiping and putting

on their makeup, and the men's loos… yuck. No way.

We can't do it in Co

aren't any blinds or anything. Plus people are always coming in and out of it to get stuff out of

his filing cabinet.

Oh, this is ridiculous. People having affairs must have sex at the office all the time. Is there

some special secret shagging room I don't know about?

I can't email Co

shock element will be a huge turn-on and make it really sizzling hot and romantic. Plus there's

a tiny risk that if I wrarn him he'll go all corporate on me and insist we take an hour's unpaid

leave for it, or something.

I'm just wondering whether we could creep out onto the fire escape, when Nick comes out of

Paul's office saying something about margins.

My head jerks up, and I feel a twinge of apprehension. There's something I've been trying to

pluck up courage to say to him since that big meeting yesterday.

'Hey Nick,' I say as he walks by my desk. 'Panther Bars are your product, aren't they?'

'If you can call them a product,' he says, rolling his eyes.

'Are they going to axe them?'

'More than likely.'

'Well, listen,' I say quickly. 'Can I have a tiny bit of the marketing budget to put a coupon ad

in a magazine?' Nick puts his hands on his hips and stares at me.

'Do what?'

'Put in an ad. It won't be very expensive, I promise. No-one will even notice.'

'Where?'

'Bowling Monthly,' I say, flushing slightly. 'My grandpa gets it.'

'Bowling what?'

'Please! Look, you don't have to do anything. I'll sort it all out. It'll be a drop in the ocean

compared to all the other ads you've run.' I stare at him entreatingly. 'Please… please…'

'Oh all right!' he says impatiently. 'It's a dead duck, anyway.'

'Thanks!' I beam at him, then as he walks off, reach for the phone and dial Grandpa's number.

'Hi Grandpa!' I say as his answermachine beeps. 'I'm putting a money-off coupon ad for

Panther Bars in Bowling Monthly. So tell all your friends! You can stock up cheaply. I'll see

you soon, OK?'

'Emma?' Grandpa's voice suddenly booms into my ear. 'I'm here! Just screening.'

'Screening?' I echo, trying not to sound too surprised. Grandpa screens?

'It's my new hobby. Have you not heard of it? You listen to your friends leaving messages and

laugh at them. Most amusing. Now Emma, I was meaning to ring you. I saw a very alarming

piece on the news yesterday, about muggings in central London.'

Not this again.

'Grandpa-'

'Promise me you don't take London transport, Emma.'

'I er… promise,' I say, crossing my fingers. 'Grandpa, I have to go, really. But I'll call again

soon. Love you.'

'Love you too, darling girl.'

As I put the phone down I feel a tiny glow of satisfaction. That's one thing done.

But what about Co

'I'll just have to go and fish it out of the archives,' Caroline is saying across the office, and my

head pops up.

The archive room. Of course. Of course! No-one goes to the archive room unless they

absolutely have to. It's way down in the basement, and it's all dark with no windows and loads

of old books and magazines, and you end up grovelling on the floor to get what you want.

It's perfect.

'I'll go,' I say, trying to sound nonchalant. 'If you like. What do you have to find?'

'Would you?' says Caroline gratefully. 'Thanks, Emma. It's an old ad in some defunct

magazine. This is the reference…' She hands me a piece of paper and I take it, feeling a thrill

of excitement. As she walks away, I demurely pick up my phone and dial Co

'Hey Co

want to show you.'

'What?'

'Just… be there,' I say, feeling like Sharon Stone.

Ha! Office shag here I come!

I hurry down the corridor as quickly as I can, but as I pass Admin I'm accosted by Wendy

Smith, who wants to know if I'd like to play in the netball team. So I don't actually get to the

basement for a few minutes, and when I open the door, Co

his watch.

That's rather a